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Orion Pax sat by himself at a small table. He was tucked away in the back corner of a cafe patio in Kaon, sipping on a now lukewarm cube of low-grade energon spiced with osmium. Orion had chosen the cafe because it was only a short walk from the Megatronus’ apartment and seemed like a calm enough spot to wait for the gladiator to finish his morning training session.
His only company on the patio were a couple of Kaonites who appeared to be younger than himself; the two had pushed their chairs as close together as they could and practically draped themselves over one another as they giggled over something on a datapad. Orion tried to focus on his own datapad, yet every now and then he would find himself stealing glances of the two, young fembots. They were huddled close together, each with one servo holding up the data pad while their other servos were intertwined. Conflicting feelings of judgement, secondhand embarrassment, and curiosity battled in the young archivist’s processor as he surreptitiously glanced over the top of his datapad at the two; his Iaconian upbringing and culture told him to be ashamed for them- flaunting their “fondness” for each other in front of the public optic was inappropriate. Potentially scandalous even. Yet there was a deeper part of him that was unabashedly fascinated.
While Orion had come to appreciate several aspects of Kaonite culture, he was continuously vexed by just how casual they could be when it came to physical contact. Orion knew he should probably be used to it by now due to all the time he spent in Kaon nowadays; Orion’s involvement with Megatronus and social reform was ever-evolving, which meant the young archivist had been spending more and more time in the notorious city (much to Jazz and Alpha Trion’s less-than-subtle curiosity). The culture shock that accompanied him on his first few visits had almost been too much; the experience was a far cry from the placid, clean walkways of Iacon that were well lit and carefully marked so pedestrians and vehicles never intersected. In sharp juxtaposition, the narrow, unkempt streets of Kaon were overflowing with mechs in root and vehicle mode who shouted and honked at one another as they vied for access to the road so they could hurry to their destinations. He could vividly remember how the constant pushing and shoving of too-crowded streets had made him feel like his vents would shut off and cause him to overheat. However, that had quickly changed when he began exploring the city with Megatronus at his side. With Megatronus, this new, strange world simply opened up for him. Well, not really for him, Orion knew, but for Megatronus...
Walking beside Megatronus was an experience all on its own. Crowds of mecha parted to make a clear path for the gladiator to stroll along. There was no pushing. There was no shoving or shouting. They just watched him with awe as he passed. Orion was invisible to them as their Champion graced the streets with his presence and Orion would be lying if he said he didn’t feel like he was under the same spell that had fallen over Megatronus’ devotees when he walked beside him.
A sharp squeak jerked Orion from his thoughts and his helm swivelled in the direction of the two fembots. He watched as one of the fembots, a sturdy-looking dark grey and maroon mech, withdrew one of her servos to wrap it around her seeker companion’s waist, pull her closer, and press her lip-plates against the other fem’s cheek. Orion felt an immediate flush in his own faceplates and forced himself to look away as the seeker erupted into a peal of giggles which left the archivist with an odd, uncomfortable feeling of yearning in his spark- though for what he was not sure and knew dwelling on it would only make him pensive.
Thankfully his discomfort was ended sooner rather than later by a perfectly timed comm from Megatronus informing him that he was done with training for the morning and would meet him back in his apartment. Orion quickly and discreetly gathered his belongings and hurried away from the cafe and his unwitting companions.
Megatronus’ apartment was located in the mid-upper levels of a towering complex whose shadow yawned over the gladiatorial pits at almost all hours of the day. Orion took the elevator to the level Megatronus and his fellow gladiators half- jokingly called “the Trophy Floor” since it was reserved for champions, accomplished sports-combatants, and other such mechs whose benefactors decided they would prefer their investments be kept in more seemly conditions rather than in the lower levels where the rest of the rabble lived. Orion followed the hallway down to Apartment 5 and knocked. After a second, unanswered knock, he had begun to wonder if he had somehow managed to arrive before Megatronus when the other sent him a comm.
[You know the code. Just let yourself in.] The gladiator said gruffly over their private comm frequency, but Orion still caught the subtle undertone of amusement in the other’s voice.
Orion huffed indignantly (he was only trying to be polite, afterall) and entered the code into the keypad. The doors opened with a soft, hissing whoosh and the archivist stepped inside. He looked around but saw no sign of the apartment’s occupant.
“Megatronus? Where are you?” Orion called out.
“Wash rack. Door’s open.” Megatronus called back.
“The wash rack?” Orion muttered perplexedly as he navigated his way to the wash rack.
The archivist passed through the master berthroom and approached the wash rack door which was partially opened, just like Megatronus had said. Orion pushed the door fully open and poked his helm through the doorway.
“Why are you in the wash-” Orion began, only for all his thoughts to come to a screeching halt.
The gladiator was bent over a warbuild-sized tub, testing the temperature of the solvent with a digit, all armor totally absent leaving the protoform underneath exposed and bare. Orion stared ahead in disbelief that Megatronus had just flippantly invited him into his wash rack while the other was utterly indecent .
“Oh there you are, Orion. I don’t know why you
still insist
on knocking.” Megatronus chuckled casually as if he was greeting Orion at his door instead of from his private wash rack.
“I grabbed a chair for you.” He added as an afterthought and pointed to a bar stool he had indeed brought into the wash rack. An embarrassed heat raced to Orion’s faceplates and his optics widened comically.
“Megatronus what is going on?” Orion finally managed to say though his vocalizer was near-strangled by static.
Megatronus looked up at him with an odd expression and one of his optic ridges raised as they often did when the other was perplexed.
“I thought we could maybe relax a little today. I know I said we needed to discuss organizing our next rally but Soundwave had to cancel and I feel we got a lot accomplished yesterday,” He responded casually, completely oblivious to the awkwardness of the circumstances, “You don’t have a problem with that, right?”
Orion watched with still-wide optics as the other shut the faucet off and stood to his full, intimidating height with a stretch. Megatronus then stepped into the tub and slowly lowered himself into the solvent with a soft exvent. Realizing he was completely violating the other by staring, (Primus how could he not when the other could make even make the most mundane movements look so fluid and effortless ), Orion quickly jerked his gaze away to stare at a rust spot on the wall. However, despite his efforts to focus his processor, the image of Megatronus’ powerful frame was seared into his mind’s optic. His processor unhelpfully supplied the recent memory of the two fembots canoodling at the cafe, only instead of the original mecha, his memory had warped so that it was Orion and Megatronus pushed chassis to chassis and pouring over a datapad, their cubes almost completely untouched, as they drank in one another’s closeness…
“Orion? Orion!”
There was a sharp snap of digits and Orion jerked and looked over to Megatronus who was regarding him with the uniquely amused/annoyed expression he seemed to have reserved for Orion specifically.
“Did you hear me at all, Orion?” He asked.
“Erm.. No. I did not. My apologies, Megatronus.”
“I asked if you have a problem with that.”
“Oh. No, n-no problem.” Orion stuttered in response though he had no idea what he didn’t have a problem with.
Megatronus’ soft chuckle told Orion the other knew as much, and Orion couldn’t help the hot blush that crept across his faceplates.
“So you’re fine with not working today?” He helpfully asked again, voice tinged with fond amusement.
“Yes, of course.”
“Good. Training was brutal today and I could really use the down time.” He mused as he sank lower into the steaming cleansing solvent.
Orion hummed some form agreement, pointedly keeping his optics off the mech in the tub. The whole situation was so bizarre that Orion struggled to accept that it was reality and not some strange dream born from his admiration of Megatronus. Though Megatronus seemed completely at ease, Orion felt like he was about to crawl out of his own plating the longer he stayed in the wash rack. He couldn’t shake the feeling he was intruding. Every impulse of his programming told him the situation was far too intimate for the casual atmosphere. He desperately wanted an excuse to leave the wash rack, to give Megatronus privacy, yet he knew Megatronus had invited him in (and even brought a chair for him ) and dodging out may be rude. A possible offense even. Oh, Primus, what if he was offending the other right now by acting so prudishly? The thought made his spark thrum painfully in its chamber.
“Orion.” Megatronus’ voice cut through his thoughts for the second time that day, drawing Orion back into the very real, very uncomfortable present.
“Y-yes, Megatronus?” Orion flinched at how his vocalizer had to reset before he could utter a proper response.
Megatronus put his servos on each edge of the tub and gave a small grunt as he hoisted himself up so he could get a better look at his companion. He stared at Orion with appraising optics. Orion stared back and fought the urge to fidget under scrutinizing crimson.
“Is something the matter?” He asked.
“... no. Everything is fine.” Orion lied uneasily.
Megatronus scoffed.
“You’re a bad liar, Pax. Tell me what’s wrong.”
It wasn’t a request.
Oh Primus where did he even begin? How did he approach this without making himself look like a prudent fool? What if he hurt his friend’s feelings because he couldn’t keep his helm on straight? Words flurried around Orion’s processor and the longer he took to respond the more his anxiety escalated. Megatronus’ optics watched him, unfazed and unreadable the entire time. He had to say something. Anything.
“Are you not… embarrassed to have me here. In the wash-rack? With you…?” Orion finally asked, though each word felt too careful. Clumsy, even.
“No…?” Megatronus responded slowly, his expression bemused.
“But… your armor… the bath…” Orion sputtered helplessly.
Megatronus continued to stare at Orion. His optic ridges knitted together they way they did when whenever the silver mech was deep in thought, untangling an intangible issue. Then, slowly, his optic ridges rose and a grin spread across his features in tandem with dawning realization.
“Orion,” The name rolled off his glossa easily, teasingly, “Are you embarrassed?”
“W-what?!” Orion sputtered, EM flaring, “N-no! Of course not!”
However his transparent lie only served to fuel Megatronus’ amusement. The other’s grin widened and exposed a row of sharpened denta.
“You are !”
He was grinning wide now. Orion stood frozen like a petrol rabbit; denying it any further would be useless as it would just fluster him further and dig his hole deeper. Worst yet, he felt like an absolute idiot in front of one of the most impressive mechs he had ever met. Of course Megatronus was perfectly comfortable with his platingless chassis. He was from Kaon . He wasn’t confined to a caste where modesty was considered ideal and anything less than was reserved for those “below.” He wasn’t trapped in the same strict, “proper” and “polite” mindset Orion was. Megatronus was provocative yet cultured. He was a brilliant strategist and fearsome warrior. He was a free spirit .
“Do mechs not strip their armor to bathe in Iacon?” Megatron teased, and flicked a few flecks of water in Orion’s direction.
Orion flinched reflexily away from the stray droplets. He frowned deeply and kept his gaze firmly fixed on a spot on the wash rack floor as his faceplates continued to burn in humiliation. He took a deep steadying intake before falling back into his instinctive programming on how to make a quick retreat from undesirable social situations.
“ Please excuse me.” He said as politely as he could muster through clenched denta, and abruptly spun on his pede and escaped through the wash rack door.
He heard Megatronus call out after him but he kept his optics forward. Orion didn’t know where he planned to go but the rims of his optics had begun to sting and Orion wanted nothing more than to get as far away from his current situation as possible. Megatronus thought he was a clamped up, puritanical twit.
“Orion, wait just a klik!” Megatronus called out again.
Orion ignored him and continued to press on; he would absolutely not stick around and have his already frayed nerves pressed further.
Then Orion heard a splash, a crash, and a sound he could only describe as a pained yelp. Orion froze, all burning shame and anger running cold in his fuel lines.
“Megatronus?” Orion called out softly.
After a beat of silence Orion darted back towards the wash rack. He popped his helm through the entryway. He was met with the sight of Megatronus, seated on his aft in a puddle of solvent, rubbing the back of his helm.
“Megatronus?” Orion said cautiously, “… Are you alright?”
“I suppose we’re even now..” He muttered, sheepishly avoiding optic contact.
Orion laughed despite himself.
“Here, let me help,” Orion said and aided the other mech to his pedes so he wouldn’t slip a second time.
The pair worked together to clean up the mess on the floor from Megatronus’ fall in relative silence. Once they had gotten all of the solvent mopped up, Orion held out a servo to take Megatronus’ soaked towel. Megatronus handed the towel over but let his servo linger so their digits brushed. A chill ran through Orion’s servo and he quickly excused himself to toss the towels into the cleaning shute. When he returned, Megatronus was still standing awkwardly in the middle of the washrack.
“Orion, I didn’t mean to insult you.” He said bluntly, finally making optic contact with Orion.
Orion offered him a small, if sheepish, smile, “I know,” he began and then sighed.
“It’s just… being around you has made me realize how-” Orion carefully considered his words, “- uncertain I am when it comes to other mecha. I didn’t want you to think less of me..”
“Oh, Orion,” Megatronus chuckled warmly and reached out to take one of his companion’s servos, “I would never think less of you for something so trivial.”
Orion smiled up at Megatronus, a warmth blooming in his spark as the other gazed back fondly. Orion blinked as one of Megatronus’ enormous servos gently cupped the side of his helm. There was a hint of apprehension to Megatronus’ EM field, but it was quickly pushed back as he spoke.
“Would you like for me to help you feel more certain about other mecha, my little archivist?” Megatronus offered.
Orion’s optics widened comically and his first instinct was to politely decline… however he knew he most certainly did not want to decline. Who knew if he would ever get this chance again? He thought of those fembots in the cafe, of that aching yearing in his spark as they laughed and held each other close, simply enjoying one another’s presence. He considered comfortable and happy they had seemed. Orion made a decision.
He looked up and met Megatronus’ careful gaze with a determined look and gave a simple, affirmative nod.
“Yes. I would like that very much.”
The smile that split across Megatronus’ face made Orion’s spark flutter.
“I thought you might,” he said and let his helm gently knock against Orion’s, “join me in the bath?”
A deep flush spread across Orion’s cheeks. He bit his lip plate, suddenly very unsure if he could follow through.
“We’ll go at your pace, my little archivist. I want you comfortable.”
Orion looked up to meet Megatronus’ gaze. Warm, crimson options urged him forward.
“O-okay.”
Megatronus smiled and pressed a chaste kiss on his helm before moving to help the smaller mech remove his plating. Orion tried to control his intakes as he stood completely exposed in front of the other. Sure his more intimate panels were closed, but it was the principal (what would Jazz say if he knew? Orion mused).
“Okay?” Megatronus asked.
“Okay.” Orion confirmed.
Megatronus hummed and gently lead Orion to the tub. Gingerly, he lifted the smaller mech and set him the in the still pleasantly warm solvent then climbed in behind him. Orion still felt too stiff and awkward, but he had come this far.
Orion could feel himself getting sucked in his thoughts again, but a warm cloth in skilled, firm servos gently worked over his protoform and grounded him in the present. The steady, rhythmic attention coupled with the warm, pleasant smelling solvent lulled Orion into a relaxed state.
Orion was jostled from his trance for a brief moment as Megatronus pulled him close and let Orion lean into his chassis; Orion’s first instinct was to stiffen, however the larger mech went back to gently rubbing his back which quickly lulled Orion back into placidity. The two of them stayed that way for sometime- basking in each other’s calm and accepting EM fields. Orion thought back to the couple in the cafe and couldn’t help but smile to himself as he finally understood why they felt the need to cozy up as close as their chassis would allow- it felt amazing . Orion looked up at Megatronus who seemed just as relaxed and content as himself.
“Megatronus?”
“Hmm?”
“Let’s spend the time off here today.”
Megatronus’ lipplating hinted at a satisfied smirk.
“Agreed.”
Orion smiled and resumed resting his helm on the other’s chest. He warmly noted that he should attempt to incorporate Kaonite customs into his world more often.